


Pennies From Heaven

by ergoellie



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Angels are terrifying, Canonical Character Death, Death is a bitch, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, First Meetings, La Divina Commedia | The Divine Comedy References, Not Beta Read, Personification of Death, They're both awful really, Threats of Violence, Unrequited Hate, unstoppable force vs immovable object
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ergoellie/pseuds/ergoellie
Summary: The angel of Death comes for Alastor. Neither are very impressed with each other.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 15





	Pennies From Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a sucker for personifications of death so when this idea popped into my head I knew I wanted to share it with you guys. Please keep in mind I do not own Hazbin Hotel or any of the characters and that the depictions within this story are just the musings of a writer in desperate need of an outlet. Thanks!

_Humans_...the angel silently mused, were always so predictably cruel if not to themselves but to each other. On swift wings she glided up toward the star laden sky, gathering height and perspective on the few lights that glittered dimly below.

Yet, as she looked down at the tiny man-made constellations of electric lights a soft smile touched her face. “But my oh my, you are such wonderfully clever creatures…” she murmured to no one in particular.

Truth be told. She found humans absolutely fascinating.

For in just a couple thousand years these meager little mortals had managed to rise from the deserts and fringes to become the top of the food chain -no mere feat indeed. But a restlessness was once again rising in humanity, and she _knew_ their baser natures would take over and war would come as it always had to reset, destroy, and give birth to new beginnings.

Perhaps she was biased but she could see the beauty in violence, and in endings. After all there can be no life without death, or creation without destruction! When her father made humans he put such finite limits on them but they did have free will..which always proved entertaining.

And over the years she had grown to loosely appreciate why her father loved them so...She had carried many a soul to the gates of both Heaven and Hell and knew the beauty that lay in all humans, even the dark ones. They were little fallible vessels, fragile but so precious...fitting so much life, love, sadness, and beauty in such a short amount of time...it was impressive to say the least.

She glanced down at the now dark expanse of swamp far beneath her. Such a unique place full of both decay and life; _her kind of place_ she thought with a quirk of her lips. In fact she almost wished she had time to enjoy the scenery but tonight was a rare night indeed...

A now starless expanse greeted her as storm clouds crowded in, tightly holding rain, but admitting sharp cracks of lightning every moment or so. And as she descended into the blackness of the swamp she felt a sense of strange excitement take hold. It had been a while since she had collected a human soul! And this one had made an impression on her... Normally her shades did most of the grunt work. But every once in a while, her busy schedule allowed her the opportunity to stretch her wings. Yet as humanity had flourished her job had become ever more time consuming...

Maybe humans are becoming a little too successful...she pondered as she landed at the edge of a murky bayou. “Over population will probably become a problem here like in Hell..” she wagered to herself and silently walked into the thick woods; **_his_** soul calling to her like a beacon in the night.

Eventually, she came to a clearing surrounded by towering cypress trees draped in Spanish moss and there lying near the base of a weathered tree was a man’s broken vessel; his brain matter splattered about the soft earth. The result of a clear gunshot wound to the head.

Unlike many death scenes she had visited, there were no others. No weeping relatives, boasting conquerors, concerned bystanders, or even whining pets...just his soul waiting so patiently to be lifted.

With measured steps she glided over to his prone form and kneeled to grasp his bloody face in her pale hands. And as she bent down to press her lips to his, her snow white wings burst forth from her back in euphoria as she coaxed his soul out of the mortal world to the one of the divine. When she opened her eyes his met hers in a strange mix of confusion, curiosity, and distinct disgust. She then drew back, up and away from his personal space, her wings folding back into her; leaving both of them with nothing but a rumble of thunder to break the silence that now reigned over the clearing.

In the quiet she quickly took in his surprising soul-form. He looked like a deer...but wrong. Grey skin, red eyes, and a smiling mouth of bared sharp teeth. This one was going to be something else...she thought silently to herself.

And as he slowly stood his height quickly far surpassed her own meager stature. He quickly placed his sharp smile inches away from her face then spoke in an odd, static laden voice, “Well if you aren't a darling! But you do realize it's customary to ask a gentleman's name before you kiss them hmmmm? His face got closer to mine, his eyes lidded. “People might get the wrong idea about you missy!” His grin then tightened further as he loomed over her.

At his declaration she let out a small chuckle. “I’m afraid that ship has long sailed Alastor.”

At the mention of his name he straightened his spine, his smile getting wider but still intact, yet he looked down at her quite maliciously. Then spoke in an oddly polite voice that contrasted sharply with the murderous expression in his eyes. “I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage once again! You seem to know my name but I don’t even know yours.” his head cocked to the left with a tiny crack when he ended his sentence.

This soul was an interesting one indeed! She gave him a white-toothed smile right back, “I go by many names but if you would like you can call me Beatrice.” She held out a hand to him. “Now please come with me, it's time for us to go.”

At that very moment two things happened. A bolt of lightning cracked ominously in the sky lighting up the clearing and he saw his own corpse. Now, normally souls who saw themselves collapsed into despair and needed to be comforted but this one...Instead of crying out in anguish his smile contorted briefly then a horrible humorless laugh left him. It echoed in the surrounding trees and darkness. Then his maniac expression whipped around to her, “I’m dead.”, he stated very simply.

She nodded solemnly to him and his laughter continued this time greater, disjointed, and warped like a radio going in and out of signal. Between his laughs she could hear him gasp out words, “killed by a two-bit hunter..”, “shot down like a dog in the muck!....”, “If that isn’t just embarrassing!!”. She patiently waited for him as his laughter dwindled and his smile turned hard once more.

He looked down at her again this time his face taking on a soft if rather amused expression. “Well if this isn't just peachy! If I’m dead then you must be the reaper? He looked over her form. “I must admit I imagined death would be more than a small woman dressed in her...slip.” he finished eyeing her bare upper torso and legs with no small amount of disdain despite his smiling visage.

Yet, she placidly looked back at him with all the air of an adult who was playing along with a child's antics. “ Well, when one gets to be my age keeping up with mortal constraints of what is modest and what is not becomes tiresome.”

“Besides” she said, turning around to walk towards the open bayou and gesturing for him to join her. “This is just one of my many forms. Typically angels' natural forms are a bit...much to take in.” She really didn't want to go into the logistics of having thousands of eyes, tongues, or limbs. Mortals typically didn’t take kindly to abstract ways of being. How can the blurred, and infinite explain to those who are so finite the complexities of angelic forms? Nope. Best to appear small, beautiful, and benign; humans are less afraid of you that way...

To her surprise he quickly joined her at her side and offered a gentlemanly hand which she took with a grateful smile. As they walked through the woods there was nothing but the rumble of thunder, and his strange ever-present static.

“So!”he broke the silence with his grandiose way of speaking. “You’re an angel! My! That must be a fascinating existence! Lots of sinners to save I imagine!” he grinned down at her, gripping her hand rather roughly.

She glanced up at him then back at the open expanse of flat murky water before them then answered. “No. By the time a sinner reaches me...their soul’s fate has already been decided. I am merely a guide to one’s final destination...unless you want to be a ghost?” she queried with a raised eyebrow.

He looked mildly interested by the idea. His paradoxically horrifying yet handsome face lighting up. Yet he answered, “No thank you Beatrice my dear! I’ve had my fair share of dealings with the other side and I know there’s no entertainment in being a mere specter!” His eyes slid down to mine. “I imagine where I am heading is very entertaining indeed.”

She blinked up at him. This soul was, by far, one of the most interesting she had ever encountered…”Entertaining is definitely one way to describe Hell.” she curtly responded as she stepped onto the surface of the water. He looked down at her feet, his eyes widening before he took his own elegant step onto the water.

Apparently delighting in his new form’s ability he hummed a gentle song then spun her around on the glass surface as small rain drops began to fall. Not in any particular hurry, she quickly fell in step with his movements. A song seemed to pour from him as he hummed and she found herself oddly enchanted by his nonchalance and decided to humor him in his fanciful motions. 

For far too long they danced as the storm advanced on them. Both meeting each others moves in perfect synchronization. And she let out a slight laugh at the absurdity of it all as she twirled back towards him. “What is so amusing dear?” he questioned as he gently spun her out once more.

“Not many mortals actively choose to dance with death, Alastor.” she replied a twinkle of mirth in her eyes. His laugh carried across the bayou at her statement. It was a surprisingly joyful thing. “Well they are for sure missing out on a delightful experience! You can cut a rug with the best ‘em.” he said with a wink and charming smirk.

“Oh I’ve danced with many over the years. I could probably teach you a few moves.” she evenly responded, her hips moving delicately as she spun out of his grip. “Too bad, this will be our last dance.” she plainly stated as a wild crack of lightning seemed to turn the light fall of rain to heavy downpour.

They both stopped. His smiling face barely negligible through the pouring rain despite the ethereal glow she -as with all angels- gave off. He cocked his head once more, the soft music coming from him intermixing with the sounds of the rain as she moved closer then offered her hand. “It's time Alastor. After all your sins must be accounted for. Come along now please.”

He reached out to place his clawed hand in hers then he roughly pulled her to him, his grip tight and unforgiving. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as his clawed hand gripped her hair near the base of her head forcing her face to his. “Here’s the thing sweetheart.” his smile manic once more, with dark shadows gathering behind him. “ I’m not exactly your average soul.” he paused then slid his hand meaningfully to her hip. The sound of her white dress ripping met her ears, some how louder than the pouring rain, and she felt his claws cut into the flesh of her hip. With a outraged gasp she attempted to twist from his grip to no avail. 

However he continued as if nothing had happened, “Now, what is Hell like? Hmmm? Enlighten me my dear! Or I’m not going anywhere with you.” he tsk-tsked in mockery. Then rested his chin on the top of her head and held her tight to his chest, his claws digging into her like thorns as his shadows danced gleefully around. She looked up at his face, taking in his victorious expression, then coolly responded, “ Oh I imagine you'd like it for the first hundred years. But after that”...she laughed darkly then put her face closer to his. “It will be your _absolute Hell_ Alastor.

His face didn't change as she unflinchingly continued, "First your paradise. Then your Hell. After you have conquered, feasted, manipulated and murdered for a few hundred years...you will get bored Alastor."

Her voice went deceptively light, "After all nothing bad you can do truly matters down there! Everything is game in Hell!! Sin galore! Why I imagine after a few hundred years you might even _beg_ to be on the receiving end of an exterminator's spear! As there will be no "entertainment" left to be found for you...no purpose!” She let out a cruel chuckle at his fixed smile that was now more bared teeth than anything.

She coyly blinked up at him, “What darling? Did you think you could send so many souls into my waiting hands without repercussions? I may be a neutral between heaven and hell but you’ve managed to insult me Alastor!” she stated, ignoring his claws and shadows.

At that statement his eyebrows shot up and his smile widened. “Ohhoho! And how did little old me manage to insult death herself? Hmmm?” He ran his claws up her back in a gesture that was mocking its intimacy.

“Your arrogance.” she responded flatly, then flared out her wings chasing the shadows away while simultaneously sending him flying to the ground with a look of mild surprise. With open wings she ventured closer, and as the lightning danced across the sky she allowed bits and pieces of her true form to come out to play. Skeletal, beast, eldritch monstrosity all in one. Yet his smile remained.

With a voice that sounded like many layered into one she hissed out, “You had the _audacity_ to think you held mastery over me! Me! Death! The end of all! I’m older than you can fathom yet there you were hacking people up in a backwater thinking you were somehow above _me_?” she let out a awful laugh that was more howl than laugh. Then she shook her head at him, “It’s laughable really.”

With that proclamation she tucked her wings back in, as the rain slowed to a drizzle, she held out her hand once more to him. With no hesitance he took it, his grinning mouth still on full display then with a voice full of admiration said, “You’ve got some moxie! Can you forgive a poor sinner for my heinous transgressions against your person my dear?” He cooed.

She blinked then let out a tiny, tinkling, laugh. “Why of course Alastor! I’m an angel after all! We’re known for our... _forgiveness_ aren't we!” She retorted with smile that rivaled Alastor's own.And with a yank of her hand she held him sweetly to her and cocooned him within the surprisingly solid confines of her wings.

When she opened them he stood on the precipice of what appeared to be a bright white cloud and below was an expanse that seemed to radiate heat and went down, down, and **down** into darkness. In fact the light given off by the clouds almost seemed consumed by the darkness that radiated upward.

With a cock of her head and a cruel white-toothed grin she walked forward snatching him by his lapels with a single tiny fist that was unyielding in its strength. Gently she brought her face nose to nose with his then stated so close it might as well have been another kiss. “Welcome to Hell Alastor...any last charming words?”

He opened his mouth then and with a smarmy grin stated, “Your dancing was mediocre at best.” Her right eye twitched then she unceremoniously thrust him into the fiery pit below; with him laughing all the while.

She sincerely doubted Hell was ready for Alastor... and with one last glance back at the molten abyss she shook her head in mild amusement. As she walked away she found herself softly singing the same soft melody from before..." _Every time it rains, it rains pennies from heaven_..."

He was a deplorable being that couldn't be denied...yet she found herself looking forward to their next dance. After all...she hummed a few more chords then grinned...good entertainment is hard to find in eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted Death to personify the view that I feel most Angels in the Hazbin Hotel universe have (we don’t quite know very much yet -so admittedly I could be very wrong). Beatrice is supposed to care for mortals and she does in a very limited, condescending sense. Alastor steps on her toes here and offends her sense of purpose so she reacts with a sort of haughty intimidation...that doesn’t work on him. She and Alastor are very much two sides of the same coin. I hope you guys enjoyed this and I might continue this narrative if and when inspiration strikes again.  
> Oh and the song in the story/title is called Pennies from Heaven by Bing Crosby. I listened to it and loved the mental image of someone like Alastor listening to and enjoying such a peaceful tune.


End file.
